Cheetah with spots

I can't say much has happened in the last few days. I was talking to Cody, he's my friend and a co-worker, and he informed me that I don't write on this much anymore, so here's my attempt. I've been writing a lot of nonsense fluff garbage lately that I've figured only really applies to my life and my future posterity. I know that some of you find it interesting as I talk on dully of my life and the situations that I find myself placed in. But, a lot of them have some personal feelings attached to them that belong in a journal and not in a blog. The definition of my blog is light and careless. It's not meant to be full of the deep and meaningful basura that only I'd find to have any meaning.

I used to be a cheetah. Yes, I said a cheetah. I would run and climb and then I'd run some more. I'd pounce off of the black sands of the outback and soar through the air. My golden body shined brightly in the sun as my black spots put fear into the hearts of all other creatures. I was a cheetah and I was amazing. That was until my friend Mary told me that she was a cheetah and I had to be something else. She had claimed that she was a cheetah first and that I was more fit to be a unicorn or something. I didn't want to be a unicorn. What's manly and graceful about an animal with a horn. No one in their right mind would ever want to be some prancing little fairytale flutternuffle who doesn't even exist in real life. I was a cheetah and I refused to be anything less. Mary informed me that she was not going to allow me to be a cheetah anymore and that if I didn't stop telling her that I was she'd go home. After that I was aladdin and she was Jasmine and my trampoline was our magic carpet. Disney eat your heart out!

-Jer-